


Hey You (Do You Know My Heart?)

by applejwoos (kenmarcadeblues)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blind Date, Feelings Realization, First Dates, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Past Huang Ren Jun/Everyone, Slice of Life, hints of yanghyuck and jitaro, late night walk, you’ve heard of the league of evil exes now get ready for the league of friendly exes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmarcadeblues/pseuds/applejwoos
Summary: Renjun sees Mark nearly every weekend—and during the week, too, if he’s lucky.One unexpected evening makes him see Mark differently.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Everyone, Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68
Collections: Markren Secret Santa 2020





	Hey You (Do You Know My Heart?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cindyginthedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindyginthedia/gifts).



> title from around you by hyunjin of loona. happy new year markrenists! 
> 
> cindy, you know i adore you so much and i’m so glad we’re going into another year of being best friends. i hope this gives you warm fuzzies ♡

Standing at the door to his apartment, Renjun can hear cacophony inside. Part of him wants to strangle everyone responsible; this isn’t the first time their residence has been loud, so at this point they’re toying with a noise complaint. But another part wants in and resents having had to close up the library. 

He briefly reconsiders strangling once smokiness hits his nose. 

Yangyang (Number 6) let him in with a sweet “Hi-hi!”, proceeding to ask briefly about work as Renjun kicked off his shoes. And now, looking beyond his friend’s classically toothy smile, he witnesses a modern baroque painting in motion. 

Jaemin (Number 3) is tickling and teasing a squirming, wailing Chenle (Number 4) on the couch. The PlayStation controllers on their laps promptly clatter to the floor, causing Jaemin to raise his voice in concern. 

In the kitchen, Jisung (Number 5) is getting down to an EXO song while Jeno (Number 1) is bent over a pot and yelling...something. There’s a lot of competing noise, so usually Renjun would read lips, but Jeno’s face isn’t visible from this angle. His tone is clearly not happy, though. 

Donghyuck (Number 2) comes out of his and Yangyang’s room with a GoPro in front of his face, cheerfully filming and laughing at what he’s walked into. 

At a loss for the moment, Renjun decides to laugh, too.

_Look at us,_ he thinks. ( _Look at us!_ Paul Rudd says from somewhere else in his brain. _Who would’ve thought? Not me._ )

For many people, living with one of their exes would be absurd, if not a horrible idea altogether. But Renjun lives with _six_ of his, and the worst that’s happened so far is...well, incidents like tonight. 

Wasting food by rendering it inedible. Everyone getting food poisoning at once. The toilet getting clogged thrice in a day (separate from the food poisoning, surprisingly). Passing illnesses around. Thinking you lost a piece of clothing only to find one of your lovely housemates has “borrowed” it. Caramelldansen playing from another room and interrupting your drift to sleep. 

He couldn’t tell you why, but although he indeed spent last year burning through boys like gasoline on a pyre, none of those relationships were charred at their end. A couple times Renjun had to come around, a couple times they did; twice it was mutual. But in time, all of Renjun’s discontinued romances were forged into friendship. And these were valuable friendships—the boys wouldn’t have gotten invited to his birthday party back in April if otherwise. 

Next thing he knew, the group chat _Renjun’s Exes Club ft. Renjun_ was created and all six of his former lovers became platonically involved with each other. _Very_ involved. (Jisung and Chenle, in particular, acted like they’d been best friends for years and didn’t know who Renjun was.)

In August, the seven of them signed a lease for a cozy (read: economically efficient) apartment situated approximately halfway between Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck’s university and the arts school that Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Yangyang attend.

Here is home, as weird and crowded as it is. Here are puzzle pieces who fit together in new ways, brought together by the unpredictable mess that is Renjun Huang’s love life. 

_At least my romantic attraction’s good for_ something.

“Look who it is! RRRRRenjun!” Donghyuck calls, hopping over to his friend. Renjun watches as the camera’s tiny lens pushes outward, surely snatching a glamorous shot of his nostrils or pores. Naturally, he raises his fist and throws a fake punch. Donghyuck startles and lowers the device out of the range of danger. “ _Okayyyyy…_ ”

Having wrestled his way out of Jaemin’s grasp, Chenle grins. “Renjun’s home!”

“Finally! Renjunnie,” Jaemin coos.

Renjun chooses to ignore them in favor of shaking down the Kitchen Disasters. He peeks through the breakfast nook and spies a lot of red sauce getting dumped into the sink. “What’s burning?” Jisung jumps at his voice. 

“Nothing,” Jeno replies. Renjun rolls his eyes. “Anymore.”

Jisung sighs as he runs the faucet. “Can we order a pizza?” 

That cry for help only hangs in the air a few seconds before Yangyang catches it. “Just one?”

“Yep.”

One pizza replaces one dish. Not too much wasted, then. It smells worse than it is, thank god.

“Normal order’s good, y’all?” Murmurs of assent come from both inside and outside the kitchen. Remembering orders and relaying them clearly is a Yangyang Skill. He tells the pizza place in so many words ‘everything except bell peppers’, and so it shall be. Not a bell pepper in sight as long as it’s him.

“Did you have fun cooking for us?” Renjun asks.

Jeno shrugs and makes an ‘eh’ noise. Jisung chuckles, “Honestly? Not really.”

“Mm. Then don’t do it again,” Renjun says, sugar-sweet. ‘“‘Kay?” Before he can face any repercussions, he retreats to the couch and sinks next to Jaemin. “You couldn’t save that tteokbeokki? ‘Kitchen Guardian’ my ass.”

“I just wanted to trust them!” Jaemin admits dramatically, laying back but keeping his eyes on the tv screen as his fingers work. “They were _so_ confident; _so_ convincing. So I was hands-off for once.” It’s knowing that the extent of the ‘convincing’ Jaemin likely experienced was Jisung acting cute for two seconds or Jeno offering a kiss that takes the impact out of this claim for Renjun.

“Well the rest of us trusted _you_...”

A scoff from a cushion away. “You _trusted-_ trusted him?” Donghyuck inquires, the game alive in the sheen of his eyes. Chenle, silent and the picture of concentration at the opposite end of the couch, sticks his tongue out farther. 

Jaemin blinks. “You _didn’t_?”

Buzzing in Renjun’s hoodie pocket pulls his attention away from the entertaining bickering that's unfolding around him. 

  
  


[ Makgeolli ]

**Makgeolli** :

hey pancake how was your day

**Me** : 

not bad but work was kinda annoying

finally home…

you?

**Makgeolli** :

idk nothing too new. mr. seo was really on my ass today 

**Me** :

tell him being on your ass is my job so he can back off

**Makgeolli** : 

DFHJGJGF??

**Me** :

OH WAIT 

why is that so suggestive, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN THO

**Makgeolli** :

yeah...you’re right, being on my ass is a renjun right 🥴 

i’ll be sure to let the ol boss know what’s up 🥴

  
  
  


Just as the fun and productive pre-dinner group activity (a roast of Jaemin with a side of setting the table) winds down and Renjun’s slightly shaking from the way Jeno and Jisung’s (successfully cooked! YES!) pork belly has been teasing his nose, the doorbell rings.

Jisung is moving before he speaks. “I’ll get it!”

_“Cash!”_ Renjun calls.

“Got it,” Jisung replies, patting his pocket while glancing back. “I’ll pay.”

Jeno whistles. “Man, when did the baby of the house get kinda cool?” 

And either Jisung doesn’t hear him or is too focused on the pizza handoff—which isn’t the fastest, that’s for sure. His tall frame lingers in the open doorway, feet restless as if doing a sleepy dance routine. He sways a bit too forcefully and allows Renjun a peek of silver hair and an unwavering smile. 

_Ah._

Of course it’s _Shotaro_ on delivery today. Everything makes sense now.

A starry-eyed Jisung sets the pizza box on the table. And to everyone’s delight, at this point he’s been nagged enough times before to _spill!_ that he starts unprompted. “He was spinning the box and I guess I wasn’t supposed to see…? He got embarrassed, but he’s good at it. His control was no joke. I thought people only did that in movies.” He pouts. “He’s so fucking cute. Why does he have to be cool, too?”

“Just ask him out already,” Chenle says. 

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is. Or, it _can_ be, if—” 

Jisung flips open the pizza box and effectively ends the conversation with an exclamation of, “Food! Eat!”

The room dips into silence then and floats there, serenity felt in the pits of filling stomachs. The philosophy of their apartment is that talk is cheap, but truly sitting and enjoying a meal is far from.

Jeno takes a swig of his Sprite. “Speaking of romance...” he pipes up suddenly. 

When Renjun looks up from his plate, his peripherals report that there are five perplexed expressions other than his own aimed at Jeno. “Huh?” 

“ _Shosung_ ,” Jeno says, causing their youngest resident to make a choked sound and scrunch his face up. _Right,_ Renjun thinks, nodding sagely. Jisung and his pizza boy. _Would we get discounts if they started dating?_ “Romance. Are you still interested in dating, Junnie?”

Renjun swallows. “Well, yeah. I’m just not _focused_ on it anymore.”

In the past, romance had been easier and more fun to pursue than friendship. He needed the stimulation, the thrilling one-of-a-kind rollercoaster of it all from the honeymoon phase to the inevitable break up. 

A good dose of soul searching and mental evaluation has since put all that serotonin chasing into stark perspective, however. He can’t change the past, but he can regulate the future (and his brain chemicals, somewhat). 

“Which is great! We love it!” Chenle assures bouncily. “But! Are you still open to blind dates?” 

Chenle himself had been a blind date, which had gone pretty well. Sure, there was ample awkwardness—but not enough to kill any spark, considering Renjun ended up dating Chenle for a month. And what a fun month that was; plenty of fond memories and serotonin back there. 

Renjun’s relationship with Yangyang had fizzled out in December of last year. Now it’s nearly Christmas again, and he hasn’t gone past casual flirting with anyone since. Time flies when you’ve got a solid, accessible friend group and endless hurdles of schoolwork. 

_And Mark, too,_ he supposes. Lately, any free time he can carve out is spent making sure Mark isn’t lonely in his new city of residence. Time well spent, of course.

Renjun blinks. “You set me up?”

Jeno smiles up to his eyes. “So, there’s this guy—”

“That we think you might like,” Chenle finishes for him. 

“Get this,” Jeno says, his hands darting out for emphasis. “He’s a writer.” A pause. “That actually writes.”

“Sexy,” Jaemin hums. 

“And he’s so damn cute. Got these pretty, round eyes and cheekbones almost as good as mine!” Chenle gushes. Jisung snorts, presumably at the somewhat backhanded compliment. “And he’s dorky—in a good way— _and_ he’s small in stature yet masculine.”

“Yeah, definitely dorky,” Jeno adds. “But not too immature. He’s quite a thoughtful guy.”

“Well, shit,” Yangyang drawls, leaning on his hand, “I’ll take him if Renjun doesn’t.”

Donghyuck shakes his head and pats Yangyang’s shoulder. “I don’t think he’s your type. Sorry, bro.”

The dreamy look in Yangyang’s eyes shatters. “How can you say that? You know him, too?”

“Well, no. But c’mon now: you said _I_ was your type.”

“Touché.” Yangyang glances at Donghyuck’s hand, which never left his shoulder, then stares at Donghyuck. 

The pair holds eye contact for about five seconds, and likely would’ve gone on longer if not for Jaemin’s bluntness. “Can y’all do this later? We’re focusing on Renjun.”

There’s pink in Donghyuck’s cheeks that can’t be explained away by embarrassment or annoyance. “Says who?” 

“The room. Read it.”

“Alright!” Renjun bursts, successfully reigning in the scattered attention which is supposedly _for him._ “I’ll bite. When’s this date?”

Jeno’s cheeks are filled with both hope and pork belly. “Saturday,” he eeks out.

“Oh.”

Jeno swallows, then tilts his head. “You’re busy?”

“Mm, I mean. I had plans with Mark...”

If Renjun’s honest, he’s been looking forward to Saturday all week. It held a lot of promise: Mark was probably going to realize his loss of superior Canadian ice rinks, and Renjun was set to find out whether ‘I could totally teach you how to ice skate’ was just cockiness talking.

And even if they hadn’t made such specific plans, Renjun simply liked being with Mark.

“Ah. Don’t you always hang out with that dude?” 

“Yes? He’s my good friend who just moved here. Shouldn’t I keep him company?”

Mark is a funny little case of serendipity. He and Renjun had met amongst the loud, sweaty undergrowth of Shinjuku’s nightlife; a bond formed instantaneously based on the shared experience of being foreigners abroad. They hung out a couple more times after, crossing things off their Tokyo bucket lists. After that brief intersection during their respective summer trips in Japan, they continued to talk on Snapchat. And Renjun had figured they’d become virtual strangers after a month, maybe less, because _isn’t that what happens?_

But for once, it didn’t. Mark refused to let their conversations die off, often sending memes in lieu of attempting a segway to a new topic. 

Somehow, slowly but surely, they came to understand each other’s sense of humor, and then learned how to talk to each other about anything and everything. For Renjun, it was usually a tiring task to update friends and colleagues on who he was dating and when; but when it came to Mark, it seemed a necessary effort.

Renjun even convinced Mark to keep a streak with him, which reached 420 (Renjun had sent a joyful ‘BLAZE IT!’ that day) before Mark broke it—due to his Snap not sending during a flight. 

After nearly two years, Mark had left Vancouver again—this time in a permanent way. He was moving.

To Rosewood, California, of all places.

All the stupid things they’d joked about doing together were suddenly not so fantastical and far away.

_Has it really been three months already?_

“You know me, I’m all for friends over lovers. But maybe, if you’re down to meet this guy, you could push Mark aside,” Chenle says, uncharacteristically mild. “Just once. He’d get it, right?”

On one hand, going on a date could be fun—it has been so long that Renjun harbors no expectations and isn’t stressed imagining it. But _Mark_...a good time was guaranteed with Mark.

“He...would get it.” Renjun presses his lips together and hums. “What’d we be doing?”

“Remember how you said that if someone was truly right for you, then they’d be content going on a late night walk? Well. Yeah!” Jeno looks so proud of himself that Renjun feels guilty for his face’s automatic grimace.

Renjun _had_ said that—and not in an offhand way, either. But a late night walk is probably not the best option for a first interaction with someone he hasn't set eyes on even once. What if it wasn't stimulating enough and made both Renjun and the guy appear boring to each other?

_But what if it's fine?_

_What if we have a lovely time and he's The One?_

_Oh, what does it matter, anyway? Romance-schmoance._

Now that a personalized scenario has been handed to him on a platter, Renjun's formerly calm mind is caught in a flurry of thoughts reaching out in various directions, stretching to fill the room. Maybe he's not as unbothered as he wanted to believe.

After agreeing to discuss the matter more thoroughly later, Renjun’s phone buzzes on the table. He flips it over and is surprised by the text staring back at him.

**Makgeolli** : 

hey, i’m sooo sorry but smth came up. raincheck for saturday? 

**Me** : 

sure, all good. i have a thing too, actually. 

you beat me to the raincheck...

**Makgeolli** : 

hmm who’s gonna treat who if we both rainchecked each other 🤔

**Me** :

you. since you said it first

**Makgeolli** : 

i’m getting punished for having a faster impulse??

**Me** : 

yes❤️

**Makgeolli** : 

this is very unswaggy >:( 

**Me** :

delete my contact 

**Makgeolli** :

no wait

**Me** : 

:]

reschedule? are you busy sunday?

**Makgeolli** :

nope, sounds good!!

  
  


“Well,” Renjun announces, “looks like I just freed up my Saturday.”

Chenle and Jeno both grin at the same time.

  
  


*

  
  


It’s another brisk and dry Southern California night, with no clouds to be found in the inkiness of the sky. Despite the city lights, Renjun can still spot some stars sprinkled here and there, as well as the moon, waning on its way.

He settles on a bench and scopes out this tiny refuge from concrete known as Palmway Park.

_Minhyung told me he's wearing a grey hoodie and a green coat_ , Jeno reminds from his mind.

_11:10PM._ His date should either be here or arriving any second. He glances away from his glowing phone screen and barely makes out the figure of a person.

They're sauntering his way, head covered by a hood and a loud, green jacket on their shoulders, and there’s something oddly familiar—

_No way. It can't be..._

Renjun blinks at the person, then stands up. “What the _hell_?” he yells.

As Mark locks eyes with Renjun, his face widens comically. "Renjun?” This is asked in his half-laugh tone reserved for when he's genuinely shocked and amused. 

It's too cute for the dumbfoundedness Renjun is entrenched in right now.

“Chenle told me your name was Minhyung!” Renjun expounds while pushing the shoulder of the man entering his personal space.

"It is!" Mark retorts, pushing back. "My Korean name, at least..."

Two years of friendship, and all the while this piece of information was kept from Renjun. It feels a little like betrayal, but it’s a drop in the bucket compared to this blindsiding blind date taken as a whole. "Did you—were you in on this? Are you responsible?" 

He should’ve known something was up when Mark suddenly rain checked him at the same instant he was considering doing the same. 

He should’ve known from Chenle’s physical description and the personality outline. 

He should’ve known, but ‘Mark’ and ‘date’ were incompatible opposites of his constructed universe; parallel lines that could never meet. (Although, that hadn’t always been the case.)

"No, no! Well, I mean—okay, Jeno did say your name was Renjun, but when I brought up your last name, Chenle told me it was something else. Straight up lied to my face.”

Renjun makes a mental note to ask how Mark knows these two schemers. "Did you remember that ‘Jeno’ and ‘Chenle’ are the names of two of my exes?"

"Yeah, but I just thought, like..." Mark pauses and glances down at his shoes. "Mm, I dunno. Maybe I didn't actually think that much."

A guffaw sprints out of Renjun's throat. "I love you, but you're a himbo without the buffness."

"So just a dummy, then?"

"No, no. You're not dumb."

"What, then?"

"You're _Mark_ , that's all."

When Mark encourages Renjun to elaborate, he finds that he can’t. Not because there’s nothing to elaborate on, but because words would do none of it justice. 

  
  
  


They decide to go through with the walk. They’re both here and had wanted to see each other, anyway. And it’s far from their first time through these lulled streets. 

Yet tonight isn’t the same as those other times. 

Renjun doesn’t know how to ask if this is a date. Mark is acting no differently than usual; his rundown of the pieces he edited this week and ever-entertaining caricature of Mr. Seo causes Renjun to lose time—multiple blocks are crossed in what feels like the single shift of a muscle. All the while, _What are we doing?_ rings unheard in the back of his head. 

A neon sign on a darkened shop window reads Vignettes Vintage Clothing. Its vivid light refracts onto a puddle and scatters across Mark’s skin.

He looks as he did that night in Shinjuku—except now with cheeks more chiseled, skin less sweaty, and eyes cozy and familiar rather than new and thrilling. 

“Do you like me?” Renjun gulps out. “Romantically?”

Mark turns to him and smiles, gaze like an open sky. “Yeah, I do.”

“Why?”

“Honestly, it’s hard to explain. I can’t be sure. You’re just... _you._ ”

Although it’s naive, Renjun is compelled to pose the same question that’d left him speechless earlier: “What does that mean?”

To his surprise, Mark delivers an answer with ease. “If you could see yourself from my point of view, you’d know.”

Renjun’s throat goes dry. _Mark really likes me. This is a date._ He needs a shock blanket and a place to lie down. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

Renjun nods sagely, thankful. _Of course Mark is this considerate. Of course he understands me._ “I’m hungry,” he announces calmly, then beelines for the taco truck in the parking lot they’d just passed.

  
  


After grabbing two tacos each, they start walking again. Putting food in his stomach calms Renjun’s nerves. He feels _almost_ normal as he rants about his composition course and gossips about the people he encounters in the library.

If Renjun is being completely honest with himself, he has liked Mark. From the minute his gaze happened to land on him in that crowded club, he was attracted to him—though he dismissed it as an effect of alcohol and adrenaline, not anything to be taken seriously. 

And whenever he was fresh from a break-up, Mark’s messages, pictures, and video calls made his heart ache even more, but he wrote that off as a selfish want for a rebound. _Long distance would suck anyway_ , he’d reasoned. 

Now there’s nothing left to dismiss. Renjun is sober as can be and there’s hardly any distance between him and Mark as they brush shoulders on the sidewalk. 

Bringing up the guy who tried to pay for a notebook with wet money (and claimed to have fallen in a fountain) makes Mark laugh with his mouth full. It’s kinda gross.

But kinda cute, too. His cheeks are stuffed like when they’d eaten brunch at a chain restaurant in Shibuya famous for soufflé pancakes.

Renjun breathes in deep through his nose before he speaks. “You know, Mark Lee, if this is what counts as a date between us, we’ve gone on a fuckton of them.”

Mark grins a little as he leans into Renjun. “Honestly, you’re right. Can we go on more?”

“As long as you agree to call them dates from here on out,” Renjun chuckles. 

“Sure. And _you_ have to do the same,” Mark replies cheekily.

“So excited for our ice skating date tomorrow!” Renjun proclaims, drinking in his date’s surprised expression as he slinks an arm into his. Chenle was right. Mark _does_ have pretty eyes. 

“Our ice skating date,” Mark says slowly. “Sounds good to say.”


End file.
